The Beast Whisperer
by epims
Summary: AU. Well, Harry is coming to Hogwarts in his fourth year. The problem is, he has been missing until now. What he's been up to, no one knows. This is a story of how Harry and Hermione found long longed for friendship.
1. The trip to Hogwarts Part 1

**The Beast Whisperer**

Harry x Hermione

Romance

**Authors Note:**

It's -a- me! Electronic Product Information Management System! (or epims for short.)

I decided to write a new story.

This is supposed to be a Romance story. However, there's no sexual contact, other than the random kiss, or anything here. I don't see what that has to do with romance. I think if you are in love, being with the person is what matters.. But I wouldn't know stuff like that anyway, so just read and bear with it.

Also I don't consider myself as a romantic person, never having been in a romantic relationship myself. So I am totally clueless.

So yea, I'll cut it here and bring forth the line breaker. After that it's bed time for me. And for you to decide whether you liked it or not.

As a side note, nah forget it. #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface# #facepalm# #facepalm# (that was the line breaker btw)

**The trip to Hogwarts - Part 1**

_Sitting by the window, the girl stared outside with a book in her lap. The sun had already left, and it was becoming darker and darker outside. She never noticed until now, having spent her time reading by the comfortable fireplace, in her soft and, amazingly, hard at the same time, sofa. But she had felt tired, which was the source of her action to look up. The night sky seemed so bright here, away from all artificial light. There were so many more stars than in the city. It was almost breathtakingly beautiful. Almost._

_She let her mind drift around, enjoying her memories of the year that had passed. The homework she had enjoyed working on, the end of term exams that she felt she had done very good on, the boy she had befriended and helped. She could hear the portrait entrance slide open, and a pair of sloppy feet silently walking the ground towards her. She knew that walking style, it was one of the traits she loved about him. How he didn't care that his heels were dragged beneath him, not even bothering to lift them up – as if walking while deep in thought. He was most of the time though._

_The staggering feet got closer. Closer. Until they stopped, directly behind her. Nothing happened at first and it was quiet. She knew who it was, but didn't turn around. She didn't have to. A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. Nobody did this to her except him. She leaned her head back, resting it on his stomach muscles and she could feel his every breath. She closed her eyes, enjoying this moment as well._

_"How was detention today?" the girl asked quietly, as if she didn't want to wake anyone up. The boy holding her didn't answer at first, but then she felt his chest vibrate as he spoke with his deep voice. The voice that she loved to listen to more than anything._

_"Not too bad." he spoke, as quietly as she had but almost lazily forming the words. She loved the way he held himself while speaking, as if not caring about anything at all. She had tried to copy it for her own, but never quite got to his level. It was, after all, his voice for her, even though he rarely chose to speak in it. Not when there were people around._

_Silence came naturally around these two and she sat in her chair, enjoying his warm, strong arms while he didn't move, knowing there was no use. He was happy where he stood, enjoying the starry sky._

_The girl couldn't control herself any longer, and she stood, turned, and gave him a strong hug. She loved him. She felt that she was the only one who understood him, maybe she was right. Maybe he knew that._

_They stared at each other, his black-eye giving him a mysterious look by the moon light. His ever present frown on place, and his emerald green eyes almost piercing through her soul causing a cold shiver to run through her whole body. He was definitely a scary person, but so kind and caring and clueless. He was wild like an untamed beast. But with her he was what could only be described as a lost puppy looking for help. Looking for someone, looking for love. And she projected all of this unto him, as he did the same to her. Her needing companionship, a friend. Someone to stand by her, someone to love her._

_"So how do you feel about receiving detention on your last day of the school year?" she asked him with amusement. It was quite odd in fact, a treat not many could accomplish._

_"Well, he asked for it. that guy. and I'm no good at magic, so.." he said. She knew exactly what he meant by that. He was always so serious. In fact, she had only seen him smile once._

_"That's true," she replied. "I can't believe it's already been a year. Seems like only yesterday that we met."_

_..and nobody knew of their relationship._

_"Yeah.."_

_Tomorrow they would go home again, separated from each other for a whole summer. She didn't know if she could handle it. Could he handle it? It was so bizarre to be away from your one and only, that she didn't know what to think of._

_But she remembered that day now. She would never forget that day. It was the day she met him for the first time._

_He was a beast, yes, but he was _her_ beast. And they would forever and ever be together, in some way or another._

_She knew._

_He knew._

_And that's when he kissed her for the first time._

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

Hermione Granger loves animals.

She even has a cat whose name is Crookshanks, and he is very nice towards people. The problem with Hermione though, is that even though she loves animals; the animals can't find it in themselves to love her. It is a problem that she has had to live with for as long as she could remember.

Her cat had now ran away from her again, and she couldn't be bothered to go looking for him. She would only get scratched and bitten, so instead she sat in her compartment inside the Hogwarts Express, staring out the window.

She had already waved her parents goodbye. She had opened her fourth year defense against the dark arts book and read the table of contents.. and was now without anything to do.

When she didn't have anything in particular to do she always became more self-aware. She hated feeling that way as it made her brown bushy hair become even more bushy, in her opinion. No longer occupied with the small frame of a book, or the little world of a desk; she took in her surroundings and was frightened by how big the world really was.

That was what caused her to always feel anxious in meeting people.

What if someone was to walk in right now and see her sitting here. Alone in her gray Hogwarts robe, with the colors of her school house. The house that least replicated her personality.

Maybe if you looked in a negative mirror, you would see the opposite of what you are; maybe the sorting hat did this to her. maybe she was so pathetic, that the hat didn't know what to do other than to reverse all her traits and use that as a base.

Gryffindor; red and gold, the two colors she hated; Bravery, no, more like cowardly. She didn't care for other people, as others didn't care about her. There was no logical explanation as to why her being was sorted into that house. Hermione is smart, she know she is. Yet, the hat sorted her in this house.

A house where the average grades are below average of the school. The second to lowest. Hufflepuff being at the bottom of the chart. The only reason she could think of as to why she was in Gryffindor, was because the hat reversed her personality. That had to be it.

Shaking slightly, on the brink of crying yet again (thinking about her pathetic life had this effect on her), she tried to fix her hair a little. Settling with it behind her ears, she once again brought her hand in front of her mouth. Her abnormally large front teeth had been fixed, but she was still scarred with the memory of how she used to be teased and bullied because of them. Her small nose fit rather well with her new teeth that she got just last year. If anything, Hermione wasn't hideous.

Sure, she wasn't the prettiest either. But she was above average; she knew. However her hair ruined everything in her opinion.

This book though, she hated it for some reason. It was very well written, indicating the author knew what he or she was writing about. But seriously, who writes down that much detail regarding the three unforgivable curses? Also, how did this book even get approved for teaching material. It was pretty much as dark as it could get.

The only conclusion she came up with was that this year, their teacher in D.A.D.A was either a very powerful wizard, of pure blood?, or he or she was extremely skilled in her job.

She spent a while thinking of who it could be, she hadn't heard of anyone powerful except Headmaster Dumbledore, Lucius Malfoy, and of course Minister Fudge. Neither of these would be suited as a teacher. Well, Dumbledore was a private teacher to Neville Longbottom already; and he was the headmaster of Hogwarts, so a teaching position wouldn't fit in his schedule. Lucius just isn't the type to hang around disobedient children, and Fudge was the minister.

So it had to be an extremely skilled wizard then.

Who was a talented wizard? Of course, Neville, Dumbledore again, Draco unfortunately, Every one of the Aurors.

It had to be an auror.

Immediately her mood changed into excitement. An Auror for a teacher?

"Did you hear? Harry Potter is supposed to be joining us this term."

"That's odd.. I thought he was dead. Besides, isn't he supposed to be in our age group?"

"Now that's a fact we do not know for sure. After all, you can't trust the ministry with everything these days. That's what my father said, anyway".

The voices were muffled coming from the outside of her compartment, but she was still able to hear the conversation in its fullest. And thank god she did, because this was good news.

Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, is after all supposed to be a hero. He will for sure be able to help make her life much easier to live. That was a hero's job, right? It was wonderful news.

Hermione was trying to imagine what he looks like and failed to notice the compartment door open, until the voice from earlier spoke again. though, more clear this time around.

"He isn't in here either. Hang on, it's the mud-blood."

White slick hair, gray eyes, the pointy chin, and the angry glare. Definitely Draco Malfoy. He was already inside the small wood colored compartment and had taken the seat opposite Hermione. His friend stood by the door, blocking it. There was no escape.

School hasn't even started yet and they found her already.

"Well, well. If it isn't little miss perfect." Draco started, and glared at her.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she answered.

"I'm sorry?," The blond boy spat. He paused before continuing, in a more angry tone. "You should learn to show respect to the people who are better than you."

She chose to ignore them, hoping that they would just leave her alone for the time being.

"That's Mi-ster- Mal-foy- to you.." he said while punching her playfully on her head by each pronunciation. Though, it wasn't really a playful intent, if the pain it left was any indication.

"Just leave me alone!" she retorted to screaming, hoping a teacher was within hearing range.

"Oi, what's going on here?!"

This voice she didn't recognize, maybe because it was coming from the other side of the closed door. Was it? Did he come to save her? But it definitely sounded familiar somehow, she just couldn't put her finger on it.

"It's _him_" Crabbe said, looking back towards Draco after sneaking a view out the door. He lost his solid composure.

"What are you doing sagging like that, Crabbe?" Draco said, punching him in the back so Crabbe stood up straight.

"Come on, draw your wand"

Crabbe did as he was told, and in that instant the compartment door opened. In walked a tall boy with his Quidditch captain clothes on, his trusty guitar on his back and the fierce red hair.

His many freckles burned in anger as he took in the scene in front of him.

"Hi, Hermione" he said, turning his anger into a smile so fast it scared her. "Um.. Hi Ron." she answered. What to do now? Should she do anything, or leave the rest up to Ron?

"Hello Draco, Crabbe" he continued, but his smile wasn't real. Hermione knew.

"Come on Crabbe, we will leave. Nice talking to you, mud-blood".

And they left.

Now, why can't Hermione be like that? The confidence that Ron emits is not normal, in fact it's almost magical. True, he is the single most popular guy in school, and he knows it. Which can make him a bit cocky at times, but he also talk with everybody and most importantly he cares about everyone.

Even Draco

Hermione doesn't understand how he can control his emotions so well, Ron's eyes definitely shouted kill, but he remained calm and greeted Draco and Crabbe quite normal.

"You ok?" he asked.

Was she really? Yes, she was "ok" but she didn't feel that great. "Yeah.." she answered, hoping it sounded convincing in some sense. Ron, albeit popular, wasn't exactly the brightest.

"Hmm.. Well, someone else is calling. I'd better go rescue them as well." So she wasn't anything other than a victim after all.. "Yea," she said, but then remembered

"Oh, by the way Ron: did you hear Harry Potter is supposed to be starting this year?"

Ron stopped in his tracks and turned around again to look at her.

"What? No, this is new to me. You mean, he isn't dead after all? Wow. I mean, maybe he is on the train right now?!"

And he left, totally forgetting about the lonely girl now standing in her small compartment, looking on as the door slid to a close.

Maybe a hero won't come for her after all.


	2. The trip to Hogwarts Part 2

**The Beast Whisperer**

Harry x Hermione

Romance

**Authors Note:**

OK you guys. Here is part two.r

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

**The trip to Hogwarts - Part 2**

_"Has anyone seen a toad?" a young girl with her eyes scanning the compartment she had just opened the door to, asked. "a boy named Neville has lost one." she continued. Three people turned their head at the same time towards the intruder._

_"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" a slightly annoyed voice partially shouted. The girl turned her gaze towards the sound source. A blond haired boy with his hair combed backwards on his head, looked at her with intimidating gray eyes. His way of looking at her made her uncomfortable, everyone seemed to look at her that way, it seemed. With anger, or disrespect. The other two boys seemed to copy the blond haired one._

_"S-sorry.." the girl said. She was now looking at the floor with crimson colored cheeks. Pathetic. She was blushing out of embarrassment again. It was pathetic._

_When the boy, Neville, had asked her to help him look for his toad, she had agreed. Deciding to start at the bottom and head on up towards the front, she would ask if they had seen a toad. She realized now what a stupid idea it was. Not only had she made a fool out of herself, but she had also made the impression of that she was rude, entering compartment after compartment like that. So when she apologized now, it was more to herself, than to the boys; because her first day at Hogwarts had been ruined, by her hands, and even before she had entered the castle or been sorted into a house!_

_"What's your name anyway? I've never seen you" he spoke again, still with his bossy, overconfident attitude._

_"Um, Hermione Granger. And you?"_

_"Granger? I knew it, you're a mud-blood. Get out of here, you!" He practically shouted at her._

_Fearing that she would cry any moment now, she quickly closed the door and went back to her own compartment where Neville was waiting for her. The dissapointment in his eyes said more than his words, "So you didn't find him?". He was obviously upset, but she could hear that he blamed her for his lost pet. He was probably right though; Hermione never quite seemed to get on the good side of animals.. This first day wasn't going well at all._

_"Neville, what's a mud-blood?" she asked, hoping it wasn't a bad word in the wizarding world._

_"Uh.. well, that's.."_

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

Someone.. of dirty blood? She had dreamt of the past. She had never done that before, as she would usually dream of an alternate reality, where she would dream how she acted around people. She would dream that she had control, she could say what she wanted and she wasn't afraid of the reaction. In her dreams she was free. But this dream, a dream about the past.. it seemed so real. In the dream she was herself, she didn't have the confidence or will-power that she usually had in her other dreams. It was definitely not a good sign of things to come.

The train was slowing down, and it had turned dark outside. Good thing she woke up from her dream rather than from the embarrassment of someone waking her up. But she couldn't remember ever falling asleep. Was she really tired?

She got out of her seat and headed out. Crookshanks probably knew his way to the castle, he always ended up in the common room somehow. So she didn't dwell on him, as Neville had done in her dream with his toad. Looking around for an empty carriage she spotted Neville Longbottom, as he hovered his trunk behind him. He had got special permission from the ministry to use magic, even though he wasn't of age. With no trace of Harry Potter, Professor Dumbledore somehow decided that Neville should be trained. For what reason Hermione didn't know. But it had to be something important.

She looked on as Neville scratched his head in confusion. "You're sure you don't see that thing?" A girl with dirty blonde hair and her wand behind her ear asked him. She pointed to the empty space in front of the carriage. "No Luna, seriously, stop joking around. I don't want to be seen hanging around with you. People are staring.." he turned his gaze towards Hermione on that last part, who quickly looked away and started to walk. It didn't matter where she had to sit, as long as she didn't have to talk with somebody, even though she desperately wanted to. The problem with her is that she was unable to start a conversation, or when one was started, she was unable to think of something to say to keep it going. And normally, other people would find that weird, and just eventually ignored her. It was exhausting.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

_Having finally cried her eyes out in the girls toilet, she stared at her eleven year old self in the mirror. She was ugly, that was the problem she thought. The reason why she didn't have any friends, when half of the first school year has passed already._

_She couldn't help but stay up here, not wanting to bother the others with her presence at the Halloween feast. She wasn't that hungry anyway. And not to mention, she should probably start to think about loosing some weight anyway._

_Curse that Ronald Weasley! Just because she tried to help him with the levitation spell, he has now accused her of being a know-it-all. She hated that nickname. Ever since she started muggle school had she been called that and it was never in the positive way. Ron was already popular at the school, mostly becaues of his elder brothers; so he probably didn't want to be seen with someone un-popular as herself. At least not until he had a solid groundwork for his image. What did he really have that she didn't? Personality? Brothers? Red hair?_

_It was too much to think about, and deciding to head for bed, she turned._

_But was struck in shock as soon as she did so._

_In front of her stood a full grown adult troll! How it got in here she had no idea, she didn't even think about it for very long because it had already spotted her and it swung its large bat, hard, shattering the mirror where she stood moments before. She tried to hide between the toilets, under the sink, tried to get behind the troll, but it was too fast! Her heart was beating really fast, and she cried and pleaded for someone to save her. She was desperate now, trying to use her wand to fight off the monster. Her eyes sent tears like a stormy night down her face. And her voice had already started to crack up. She was afraid. So very afraid._

_Using all the information she had on trolls and with a combination of the few spells she knew,_

_she fought. She wasn't able to speak out the correct pronunciations while she was on the verge of passing out from fear. And it didn't help that it felt like her eyes would fall out from watering this much._

_It didn't take long until she laid unconscious on the floor in a pool of her own blood and her arm broken._

_Teachers rushed into the girls bathroom, mere seconds after the incident, finally having figured out where it had went due to the sounds of a fight. They were greeted by the shocking sight of a troll floating in mid air, trying desperately to get down to the floor again, his club still in hand and with blood all over it. In a corner further down, amongst loads of rubble, stones and dust, was a brown haired girl, clutching her legs in a foster position. Her head was bleeding violently._

_Unable to figure out what had happened, Snape took the liberty of killing the troll himself, while McGonagall ran towards the unconscious girl. "She's in Gryffindor!" she exclaimed. "My god, what happened to you?"_

_.._

_A couple of days later, the girl woke up and was greeted by her head-of-house._

_"How are you feeling, Hermione?"_

_Hermione looked around confused. Her depth perception was odd, it was hard to judge distances and she managed to push her glass of water off the table and on the floor, causing it to break, in an attempt to grab it; her throat was so dry. She apologized quickly, thinking of what kind of trouble she would get into for destroying school property. She felt like crying again, suddenly realizing what had happened. But tears would not come, and instead a severe headache made its entrance. _

_She grabbed her head as her nervous system caused her arms to reach up for the source of pain as a reflex. And she noticed she had bandage all over her head, and her right arm._

_The bandage on her head covered one eye, which would explain her bad perception of depth and distance._

_"I.."_

_She couldn't speak anymore, she just sat there lost in thought. Is her eye hurt very badly? Did her head split open? It felt like it did.. What was a troll doing in there! When is christmas? Did she want to go home? Or even stay here?_

_"Did you make the troll float in mid-air?"_

_McGonagall asked Hermione._

_"The Troll!"_

_She exclaimed in shock, then realized it was a question. She nodded slowly. Her head felt like it would explode from that small movement. McGonagall seemed to eye Hermione with suspicion, as if she couldn't believe it. However, seeing as to how she was the only one missing during the feast, and during the announcement of a troll, she had no choice but to believe her. And she felt pride swell inside her - one of her owns had almost defeated an adult troll, and survived! Not to mention a first year student, alone, scared, and a girl on that!_

_"Heh, no wonder you ended up in Gryffindor" McGonagall said, patting her head, causing Hermione to scream in pain. McGonagall felt sweat creeping in her hair. She needed to think before she acted, at least once in a while. But she couldn't help but laugh as a few drops of tears escaped her eyelids. The girl was strong, and she probably had no idea. All she needed was someone to give her a push._

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

That's right, Hermione thought.

She had defeated a troll.. well partially anyway. But she did get away with only a minor injury (if you could call it that) to her head which made it sting in pain at sudden movements. Her eye turned out to be a black eye, nothing serious. However it was swollen for months after.

Anyway; she thought, making friends should be nothing to her! But there was this feeling she had, like an unbreakable limiter hidden deep inside her mind which when she came too close to it, made her re-think her actions. It usually ended up with her deciding it would be best not to say anything at all, when she really did want to. And therein was the problem.

It's funny how magic, being whatever it is, can do amazing and great things. But they can't cure her shyness. Unless..

She _had_ read about something called occlumesy and legimecy, if she learned either; she could possibly.. But there are few people who know of that magic. Voldemort was one, professor Dumbledore as well. Two great wizards Hermione could never reach the same heights as.

Dumbledore, of course was the ideal choice to have him teach her, but she had the feeling he was too occupied with Neville. Voldemort on the other hand, even if she actually found that guy, there would either be rejection or instant death. If he was still alive, that is. Dumbledore seemed to think so.

Finally the carriage stopped and she jumped off and headed straight towards the great hall. Not bothering to wait for her traveling companions: Ron and his friends. At least she got to the castle without too much of a hassle.

Sitting down in the Great Hall, she watched as everyone else got to their seats as well. Unsurprisingly, nobody sat themselves anywhere near her, unless there were no more free seats. It was as if she didn't exist as a person, but rather an obstacle.

A quick glance at the teachers table gave her a look of the new school teacher. A scary man he was, with a spinning eye. His hair looked as if unaffected by gravity the way it hung around his frame. It was probably not very thick at all. Almost as if bordering towars the first steps of baldness.

In came the first years and they all looked terrified. Hermione couldn't help but agree, she was scared as well when she first came here. Even though she knew lots of things about Hogwarts that she had read in books, she didn't know a thing about magic back then.

The sorting started - most of the first years ended up in hufflepuff, the largest house since she could remember and the headmaster rose from his chair and immediately the great hall was silenced.

It was then that she heard the chains.

It seemed as if everybody noticed them as well, even the headmaster had turned his gaze towards the Gryffindor table. Hermione followed his line of sight and..

That was when she saw him for the first time.

There, by the end of the Gryffindor table, in the seat closest to the teachers table sat a boy with wild black hair that also seemed to defy gravity, but only because it was thick. It went in all directions, as if he hadn't had a shower for.. months. His green eyes looked as if they were made of diamonds; they were ice cold, and very hard.

His hair cast them in shadow, but they seemed to shine through the darkness, casting angry glares at everybody, and at his chains, and he grabbed his collar trying to rip it off. His clothes looked rotten, he hadn't even the Hogwarts robes on. Was he a student here? A prisoner? No, he was like an animal, like a beast. He couldn't be a student.

He didn't look very happy at all where he sat, as he trashed about trying to free himself from what magically bound him to the table.

Just who is that person?


	3. The start of term feast Part 1

**The Beast Whisperer**

Harry x Hermione

Romance

**Authors Note:**

This story was meant to be a one shot when I first got the idea of the plot, what the characters personality would be like, and what setting this all would take place in. That's why the opening chapter had such a weird prelude/introduction. I suddenly realized that the story had grown a lot since when I came up with it, that being subconsciously, and so I had to write down whatever the hell was on my mind while trying to filter it all out.

In the end, there was too much information to fit in a one-shot, unless that one-shot was to be (an estimate) forty thousand words long. Now, I'm not a sucker for writing stuff over a long period of time; which conclusively led me into writing the story chapter-wise, where I am able to subsequently take breaks, but at the same time keep the story flowing. So if that doesn't work for you; and you would rather have it in a one-shot format – then just imagine it is.

The story that you are reading reflects very much how I view life sometimes. I may not be the most friendly person alive, and I may not be a very shy or timid person; but I am a human being with feelings too, as much as you are. I hope this story will inspire people to get to know other people; shy or not, friendly or not.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

**The start of term feast - Part 1**

The sound of somebody clearing his throat brought the students attention back to the headmaster, looking at him with confused faces, wondering if it was him who cleared his throat.

It was.

The headmaster silently eyed the students, every single one, as he stood there behind the altar. He was not sure how to begin this speech, but he had to. Surely every one here would be curious as to just who that boy-in-chains was. It would either come as a disappointment to them, or happiness. No, there was no high chance of happiness to come their way. But by the gods he hoped they would not fear him. He just prayed that he would manage to mention the boy before _they_ got here. It was simply luck that they were already this late.

Without further ado, and without lingering in his thoughts any longer than what was absolutely necessary he began his opening speech.

"To everyone: Welcome!" Dumbledore said, "To a new year at Hogwarts. I am, of course, Albus Dumbledore, your headmaster." There was an applause at this, as well as some cheering (and he could swear he heard booing from the Slytherin table?). "Behind me are located the head teachers of our four houses; Slytherin," he nodded to the Slytherin house and Professor Snape stood up from his seat, "whose head teacher is Severus Snape. Ravenclaw," he nodded to the students positioned at the Ravenclaw table, and Filius stood (on his chair, so he could be seen) "whose head teacher is Filius Flitwick. Next we have Hufflepuff," he nodded to them as well, "whose head teacher is Pomona Sprout." Ms. Sprout stood and waved to her table, "Finally we have Gryffindor; whose head teacher is Minerva McGonagall." Minerva stood as well, and bowed to the students.

Ron brought forth his guitar and strummed the strings, checking the tune. Then he began to sing.

_I know a woman, yes I do,_

_I'm sure you know her too._

_She dresses in a green outfit-_

_is that to hide her sweat under her armpits?_

This earned him taunting looks from the Slytherin table, and loving looks from the Hufflepuff table, as well as snickering from the more popular girls in Gryffindor, and Fred handing his brother money for some reason. Seamus high-fived Ron, and they laughed. Seriously, Ron would do anything for attention.

Hermione rolled her eyes; seriously, Ron could be so stupid sometimes. Not only was he insulting his head of house but he also didn't write a very good poem, now did he?

Dumbledore stood silenced, but smiled. The students were in need of humor.

"Very good, Mr. Weasley, very good." He said, Minerva stood shocked. Well, it wasn't always easy to read her exterior emotions, but it looked like she was shocked. She could be amused though; very few people knew how she looked (and acted) when she was amused, so it was difficult to tell.

"If you are quite done then, Mr. Weasley," Ron nodded and gave a thumbs up to the headmaster, "Present at the teachers table as well, are the remaining staff of Hogwarts. I take it they will want to have their own introduction in class tomorrow, so let us not linger here any further."

A couple of students laughed at their headmaster's laid back personality. He wasn't always like this so it was fun while it lasted.

"I hope you will all take good care of each other now, remember who your head teacher is and come to them whenever there is something on your mind," Dumbledore finished. Part one was done, and it had went by rather flawlessly so far. Now came the time to introduce their newest student, and by the looks of it; every single one of the students seemed to suspect that.

It seemed as if they were all on their toes trying to hear every single word that they knew would come next. That beast like person at the Gryffindor table would finally be revealed.

"And finally, I am delighted to announce that a previously missing student will be joining you all this year," Dumbledore's voice wasn't filled with the same amount of confidence as it once held, but rather there was hint of concern, "As this would be his fourth year so might he join his fellow fourth year students in class; his name is,"

Hermione's head was spinning, a student who would be starting his fourth year. Who had been missing until now, It couldn't be! Her thoughts were echoed through Dumbledore's mouth as she thought his name. Finally realizing just who he was. His name was,

"Harry Potter."

The silence that followed was deafening. This _had_ to be a joke. There was no bloody way that Harry Potter, a _hero_, a person presumed _dead_ no longer than a year ago, a symbol of all that is good; was placed as close to the teachers table as possible, _chained_ to his seat.

A saint was not supposed to be angry, he was not supposed to have that hating look in his eyes, he was not supposed to look like a beggar. And he was definitely not supposed to act like a _wild_ _animal_!

It was a joke, had to be! There was _no bloody way_!

"N-no way." Someone silently gasped from the Ravenclaw table. It was a girl. Her dream image of the hero of the wizardry world shattered. And that single statement brought forth a school wide argument. The Great Hall was filled with voices again, but this time the topic remained the same throughout the whole room. _Silence._ No longer was there talk about the summer vacations, or the quidditch teams, or the muggle world. _Silence! _No longer was there happiness involved. This was shock.

Hermione stared blankly at the boy, being unable to look away. Nobody was interested in her opinion anyway, so she had all the time in the world to actually think about this logically. This really is Harry Potter, he looks so.. Why does-

"Silence!"

The last of the conversations ended abruptly from the headmasters outburst, and Hermione could hear somebody mentioning something about chains as that persons voice slowly died out, realizing he was the only person still talking. It seemed Dumbledore had heard it as well, for he cared to elaborate.

"Regarding the chains. It's simply a precaution I set up," he began to walk slowly towards the boy, as if he was afraid; or at least very cautious. And the boy stopped trashing or trying to get free, almost as if he sensed that someone was walking up behind him. "We don't want you to run away again, Harry, do we?" He said this personally to Harry as he stood behind him, almost in a whisper, almost like a warning. But heard by everyone.

Harry Potter had had enough though as he, with the agility of a cat, turned around and tried to kick Dumbledore. But he was already prepared, having seemingly learned from previous encounters with the boy, and had apparated away. Snape stood from his seat with his wand in hand, aimed at Harry.

"Harry, we are simply here to help you." Dumbledore said. But Harry didn't listen, he just glared daggers at the old man and said nothing.

The new teacher whose eye had spun around everywhere before, now had it focused on Harry, as if taking in every single little detail. Both of his eyebrows were high in the air, as if in shock. And he grabbed a bottle from inside his coat, and drank, quickly and quietly hiding it from view again. It was hard to tell if the man had something planned, but it was no hard task to conclude that he was very, _very_, surprised at seeing that boy _alive_ and well.

"I hope you can find it in yourself to make Harry here feel welcome. He has already been sorted into a house - the house of Gryffindor - And please keep in mind: he hasn't had much training in the art of witchcraft, and will be in need of help. Please help us look after him."

Well, it went by rather, what's the word again, smoothly, he thought. It could have been worse, Harry could have kicked Dumbledore again, or anything of the sort. While there was no sign of another "student outburst", even after the rather violent display, Dumbledore decided to get to the next topic on his list before they all started chatting away again. It felt to him as if this year, it was the longest introductory school speech he had ever held since he first applied for this job. But what can you do, it was probably his old age anyway.

"Well, as you must all have noticed; we will also have a new teacher this year. Alastor Moody will be our new defense against the dark arts teacher. Everyone, please make him feel welcomed, and take good care of him, as I am sure he will do the same to you. He is after all a qualified Auror and has much to teach you."

Applause followed, but it was an unfocused applause. Many of the students hadn't even registered that their headmaster had spoken. They still looked at the wild animal at the Gryffindor table in fear. Some applauded for only a couple of times, just to show at least some interest or hint of respect. And Dumbledore just stood there thinking it was probably because of Alastor looking like the least likely teacher there was, as Alastor himself stood from his seat and nodded stiffly. He looked towards Dumbledore and pointed to the door hidden from the students view. Dumbledore nodded and Alastor ran off.

"What a weird teacher he is, that one" someone mumbled not far from where Hermione sat. And she had to agree. It wasn't very teacher-like to be sneaking off like that, right after his introduction. At least he could have staid for the feast, or at least shown a little bit more interest in his job.

"Ah," Dumbledore continued. Was he still not finished? "There is yet another thing that has to be said people, before we will have our lovely meal! I have the great pleasure to announce that-"

Then the great entrance doors of the Great Hall opened, and in came marching a bunch of tough looking boys. Albus didn't get the time, nor found the moment to continue his speech. The entering men must have been in their sixth or seventh year, by the look of their body build. And it felt as if the whole room had gotten hotter; as if they were followed by the flames from hell itself - Even the ambient light in the room tinted towards red, as the many candles dimmed weaker by the force of which the large doors were slammed open.

In charge of the boys was a man with a long black beard, and a wooden staff. His face was rather pointy, he was looking almost aristocratic; and he held his chin high up in the air for all the girls to see. But he paid no attention to neither his, nor the Hogwarts students, and he walked straight towards Dumbledore, with his group of men not far behind. One could immediately tell that he was of rich culture, probably even famous.

They both stood there, eying each other. Not moving at all, not even making a face. Hermione began to get worried, who were these guys? What business do they have here, could it be Harry.. was one of them? Had they come to take him back?

Suddenly the man with a black beard began to laugh very hard and he hugged the headmaster even harder. The spirit of the the Great Hall was once again in place as it felt as though the tense atmosphere had evaporated. There was an obvious feeling of relief – for if you had what could be described as a sixth sense, that is how one would define this moment.

"It's been a while, Albus" He said with his strong, very masculine voice. Dumbledore, however never got the chance to reply: for the doors opened again and a flock of beautiful girls came dancing in, almost as if they didn't weight anything and were flying into the room. The previous feelings of pressure was completely forgotten as the girls moved towards the front of the hall. It was almost as if they carried a taste of heaven with them; and everyone were awestruck by the display.

Ron had his eyeballs way out of their sockets as he watched them swing and sway past and behind his seat. He was punched in the shoulder by the girl by his side as she pouted, and he quickly apologized to her; giving her a quick peck on her cheek.

"Ah, Albus" the enormous lady said as she reached the headmaster. "How, uh, lovely to zee you!" she continued, her accent was French. "Olympe, Igor! Wonderful, wonderful. Just on time I see. Please have your students take a seat. I was just about to announce."

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

There was a short moment of greetings between the students and the newly entered characters, as they gathered at the tables trying to fit. It had become rather crowded all of a sudden. Hermione never was very good with large crowds.

"Everyone, I am utterly delighted to announce that this year it has been decided that Hogwarts will be the host of a very special event. The Triwizard Tournament!"

As Dumbledore said this, people started chatting again excitedly, Harry completely forgotten. But Hermione was not so interested in this special event, she didn't even know what it was – being of muggle blood. She was more concerned about that boy, and she dared a quick glance towards him. He had already given up trying to get free, and was now sleeping(?!) with his arms crossed under his head. Had he not heard the ruckus that had just occurred; did he not care?

A strange, covered object came hovering down from the roof as Dumbledore began to speak again.

"Three students - one from each school - will be selected to fight for glory, for.. survival!" The room was filled with silence once again; fight for their survival? Just what is this tournament about?

"I present to you, the Goblet of Fire!"

He removed the sheet where a large goblet was hidden. The great hall seemed to darken as the dark blue flames of the goblet began to light up and it was a spectacular sight. It was as if the flames emitted no heat, and they were magically bound to the goblet for there was no indication of the flames actually coming _from _the goblet; the flames were hovering slightly above the surface. This made sense in a way though, because the goblet was made of what looked like wood.

"Three people!" Dumbledore began again, "will compete. If you feel you have the courage to enter, enter your name in the flames of the goblet and hope for the best. But I must warn you: should your name be chosen, you _must_ compete. There is no way out once the goblet has decided who will compete. Oh, and you must be seventeen years of age to enter." The last sentence was rushed; as if he didn't want anyone to hear it.

"Whaaat!" George shouted in disappointment, as he slammed his hand on the table in front of him. He definitely heard it though.

"And now good people, finally, let us feast!"

Immediately the tables were filled with various foods of all sorts, and the students happily began their long longed for dinner. Ron, who immediately had his mouth full of food (didn't he taste his food at all?), tried to speak with one of his brothers.

It was impossible to understand a word of what he said though, and so eventually Fred just chose to ignore him.


	4. The start of term feast PArt 2

**The Beast Whisperer**

Harry x Hermione

Romance

**Authors Note:**

It has come to my attention that apparently there is a manga out there, that I've forgotten the name of now.. something with beast.. beast tamer or beast, eh something.. that deals with a similar setting to this story. I would like to mention that I was unaware of the manga when I began this story and as such I had no idea that I was entering somebody's territory. If you feel this story is way too similar to the manga then I won't bother writing anymore. Until then, I will stick to my story, and hopefully, you who have read the manga, won't bother me.

Also the opening paragraph of this chapter is odd. The general idea of converting my thoughts into words is very difficult to me.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

**The start of term feast – Part 2**

_There's something about time that is very curios: it creates and it destroys._

_People age and die, and things rot. But then again, people are born and things are made. Time is the source that makes anything possible. And weren't it for time itself, animals, humans and plants, and everything in-between, would never have had the chance to live at all. Life would not exist; Magic would not exist._

_This ultimately means that if you do not live; time does not exist?_

_Magic could not be alive; for if it was then that meant it could die. Not being able to feel the passage of time in all of his.. life? He assumed he was magic. Or was magic, time? Then he was time._

_He was conscious and could think; he could speak and he could understand. He had a purpose: he was a being giving advice. A magical being, of time.._

_Being unaffected by the phenomena that was time; he was sadly a very lonely character. It was true that in his mind his masters resided. Famous and legendary they were when they were alive. The four great wizards and witches of the age. Their will lived through him, reinforced by the passage of time, and he would do as he sought fit with the knowledge that he had._

"_Hermione Granger!"_

_And lo and behold, it was that point in time again that he enjoyed the most throughout his long lifespan- it made him truly feel _alive_. It was then that he knew he was something of importance to the time influenced world. And only then._

_Alas.. it was a girl this time. A muggle-born - how interesting! And she had a splendid mind. Hidden, it was. Head as big as Rowena herself.. but ah, where to put this child?_

Always alone_. Like a vacuum her thoughts were squeezed into his mind. Thoughts, the only thing he ever heard. Made a fool of herself. _Nobody_. She has nobody. But she is still sleeping. Deep within her soul she has it. She must see it. The shell will be broken, she will emerge from the darkness. _Alone_. The will to survive and the flame of life; will never falter. Soon, my dear, you will earn a place in history. You need to wake up! _To wake up_. And grab your opportunities. This is your reality - _Is it magic_. A lack of courage, but it exists in your soul. _Dig_. Find it, and you will be all that you ever wished for. A proud person. One who does not feel insecurities. It will be a long and windy way, but time will slowly cure anything. It's amazing what time can do if you first let it._

But I was always alone.

_And what strong bonds you will build with the people you will meet._

But I have always been a bother.

_So many more reasons to like you, because of your faults._

But I was always teased!

_And what a strong mind you have built because of it!_

_And now the child was silent. Nothing more to complain about. And this was exactly what the hat wanted. There is only one place for this girl._

_She is really an amazing creature. She is intelligent, and that is why she think too much. Let it go, and she will feel comfortable. The house to place her, to make her whole; he couldn't think of a better one than "_Gryffindor!_", and remember: it will be a difficult journey. But worth it in the end!_

_As she left, and he would never see her again, the hat wondered even more about his own life. Would he have anything to gain after his own difficult journey that was life, as well? Or would he eventually be alone as time itself ran out? Would he continue to live on even then? Alone?_

_Shouting and clapping and whistling could be heard. The girl who seemed so shy at first had a determined look. Confidence. She is in Gryffindor now, and she was courageous. She was bound to her destiny to overcome her inner struggle, to become a woman. But she had trouble figuring out if what the hat had said was true. Did she really have the power to change? Not alone, anyway. That's for certain._

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

That was her alright. The insecure, over-thinking Hermione Granger. Four years later, still nothing had changed. She was eating a splendid feast at the Great Hall. It was still early in the evening, but she found herself quickly loosing interest in remaining there. For each minute that past, it felt like a whole hour, every second felt like a minute; she was so utterly bored. Loneliness can do that to you, especially when you were unable to do anything about it.

Having been hungry ever since she left for the train to take her here – but she still ate slowly. She didn't want people staring at her if she ate like she hadn't eaten in days. It was true though, ever since her first year here she had been on a self proclaimed diet, so she was often very hungry. It didn't seem to help though as people still avoided her. It was probably no use trying to look pretty when she wasn't even looked at to begin with.

But then again, some day she would leave this school and become an adult. Some day she would live by herself, and look for a job. Some day she would meet somebody. Would she regret having eaten too much then? She wasn't one to exercise much, so the food she ate would just go straight to her hips, she believed.

No, she would take it slowly and only eat what her inner mind told her. There was no use in trusting her eyes or stomach; after all, it takes twenty minutes for the stomach to signal the brain that it is full. By that time, she would have already eaten twenty minutes worth of food too much.

But maybe she is just over-thinking again. She's a healthy young girl, she should eat as much as she can in order to grow and become a woman. But she dares not. Instead she ate slowly and calculated her number of chews; 23, 24, 25, and swallow.

And in the end she just sat there and counted the seconds, hoping for the relief of Dumbledore holding his ending speech and sending everybody to bed.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

Meanwhile, at the other end of the Gryffindor table Harry had awoken by the scent of something lovely. He looked around at first, but didn't have to search for long; he stared at the food that had suddenly appeared in front of him.

He was unsure of what to do here, so he did not to do anything at all; as if in shock. Truth be told, he was very shocked. He couldn't believe that this food was real, or was it even real? Maybe he was so hungry that suddenly he began to see what his stomach wanted him to see? Couldn't his mind tell reality from illusion? This place was, after all, a magical school; wasn't it possible that his inner desires fed the magic ever present in this room, and which in turn caused him to hallucinate?

He still had trouble believing in magic though, it wasn't exactly something anyone would accept into their lives all of a sudden. Especially if one had lived the life of Harry Potter, but he never doubted he was special. _Those_ people had taught him just how special he was. Then there was that incident.. Was that magical? Was he magical?

Not one to dwell for too long over something, especially the past, he looked around with his mouth agape; people were actually eating! This was real. This was real food. And there was so much, so many kinds of food. Oh, and that tasty looking, warm chicken that just seemed to ooze with a lovely aroma. There wasn't anything else in his vision at the moment, as his eyes seemed to focus like a tunnel on the meat. He reached out slowly towards the plate; not caring if anyone saw him stealing food. It was just too conveniently placed in front of him for him to even reconsider. But then he suddenly stopped.

He, couldn't reach!

It was right there in front of him, but the chain on his neck prevented him from reaching over and grabbing a piece of that deliciously looking chicken. He'd never had chicken, and he really wanted to try the taste of it. His hands didn't reach, being cuffed to his seat. The chains were simply long enough for him to barely reach his plate, fork, and his mouth. But the food was out of range. He _couldn't _reach.

Was it not meant for him?

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

_If you came to hear of the rumor about one Neville Longbottom having supposedly saved the school numerous times, just know that it isn't a rumor. It was fact. Neville Longbottom was one of a kind, in fact, when it comes to spectacular events. Seemingly unbelievable acts of heroism._

_For one; it is rumored that he chased off the presumed (though many feared he wasn't) dead Dark Lord Voldemort during his first year at Hogwarts. And he saved the wizardry world from ever seeing the rise of the dark lord. _

_Second; it is rumored that he once again escaped the terrors of Lord Voldemort in his second year, by defeating a gigantic snake whose eyes turned anyone into stone who looked in them. Sadly, the life of a little girl was lost, and people still believe that was the trigger for Neville to snap and go hunting the basilisk himself. It is not certain whether Voldemort managed to come back or not that night; but what is certain is that Neville had battled him and survived._

_How, you may ask, did he manage to do this? Why of course, he was a private student of Dumbledore._

_Not only that, but Neville is.. special._

_There is talk amongst the students of his god-like abilities as well. Neville Longbottom had a thing for magic - It was almost as if magic preferred him over anything else - almost as if he was magic itself._

_You see, he was very special because he could instantly recognize a spell, no matter if he'd known the name, if he'd ever seen it before, even if he did not see the incarnation itself; he knew what the spell was, no matter the circumstances._

_He could feel the magic in the air, and in the spell. He instinctively knew of the magics properties and amount in any given spell; he knew what the spell was for, and what it would do (never what it could) almost before it was cast. And with this ability he was impossible to duel against._

_It was true that he may not be very strong, physically, and he wasn't above average in stamina, but with his knowledge he instantly took the advantage over the opponent and somehow made them fight against themselves. It's not easy to describe how he does it; one would almost have to see it to understand it. Not that anyone ever could understand it anyway – probably not even Neville himself understood it._

_And with Dumbledore's announcement of taking him in as a private student; he became a very much snobby, overconfident person. He looked down at people, because they were all inferior to his skill. Neville Longbottom was the soon to be hero of the wizardry world, according to the headmaster anyway, who will save the world as we know it from an unbelievable evil._

And now that there was this lower class bum sitting to his left, who seemed unfamiliar of magic to the extent that he didn't even emit any. He just couldn't stand it. Not only was this Harry Potter, his supposed rival (because Dumbledore had spoken of a prophecy regarding either Harry or himself), but he looked so weak!

Even though Voldemort had marked Harry as his equal, there was simply no way he had done the right choice. No, it had to be Neville who was the prophesied one. And he god damn well was going to show everyone just how wrong they were in declaring that.. _animal.._ a hero.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

Maybe this was a test? Harry thought. Did the old guy want him to socialize with these people, right from the beginning? But, he didn't even know anyone here. Besides, he had the impression that he wasn't very much liked anyway, he usually wasn't, so what was the use? He'd be able to succumb his needs for one more night; then he'd sneak off later and grab some of the remains.

His stomach had other thoughts though, and angrily told him so. People around him stopped stuffing their faces full of the amazing foods and looked at him. Fear, definitely fear. And pity. He didn't need anyone to pity him – he'd always been independent. And of course, anger.

A slightly chubby boy to his right, still eating mind you, looked at Harry with what he could only assume was anger. Hist black hair hanging in a bowl cut, his face stuffed with potatoes, meat and vegetables. He looked to be the same age as Harry. He was the only one sitting next to him, as to his left there was no seat; him being on the last seat of his row. If only that person could help him out..

"Umm.. Hey you." He tried, not too familiar with the whole friendliness thing.

The chatter that once was so lively had stopped abruptly. It was Harry in focus now, and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. True, he was used being in the center of attention, but not like this. Too many confused, and scared faces at once, it was bizarre; surreal, _un_real.

"Y-yes?" the boy said, clearly trying to hide his anger -at being disturbed? He looked a bit frightened at being spoken to as well. It must have felt as if Harry's eyes pierced through his very soul. As if all he could see was a wild animal, chained to the table, a collar of some sorts around his neck with a strong iron chain connecting him to the table; smaller ones connecting his hands to his seat. And he was staring at him in hunger. His face had scars, though they weren't completely visible, as if he'd been in many brawls ages ago; and his clothes were dirty and ragged. In his left ear was a piercing, that he obviously had put there himself, he was missing a tooth; and his fists were almost completely covered in scars. But his emerald eyes were the worst part about his feature; they didn't look very much like a humans. Maybe he was a werewolf?

"Give me food."

It wasn't exactly a question, he practically commanded the other boy, and he didn't break eye contact. A beast. The eyes were almost hypnotizing. The constant frown on his face seemed to make wonders because the boy nodded awkwardly, clearly sweating from the mental onslaught that had taken place in his head, and began picking various foods for Harry.

"Oi oi," someone whispered, "Neville's already befriended him". And more people turned to look as Neville Longbottom, one of the strongest wizards in the school (of the students) had succumbed to Harry Potters intimidating looks just after a couple of seconds. "Befriended, heh, looks like he's forced. Can you see his face? Neville's so pissed," They probably didn't bother to actually whisper amongst themselves; it was more or less them hoping that Neville would hear.

They tried to suppress a laugh but it only held for so long as Neville stopped his course of action and stared at the two in petrifying anger.

Harry didn't say anything when the boy had finished with his request, and instead dug in. It was incredibly good food. So many different tastes and aromas, and juices. It was a dream.

That was when he decided that coming here probably wasn't such a bad thing to do anyway.

The people around him stared in shock; he was even worse than Ron when it came to food. And that was when they decided with certainty that Harry Potter was just like a wild animal.

Ron sat with his mouth half open and stared in amusement at Harry Potter. That was certainly an interesting person that he wouldn't mind getting to know a little better. Maybe they would be great friends; it would appear that he was in need of a friend as well. Plus, Harry looked like a cool person to hang with. "Ron, come on tell me what happened next!" Seamus said from opposite Ron, and he broke out of his rain of thoughts.

Draco Malfoy however, also having seen the scene playing out at the Gryffindor table, stared at Harry in glee. He decided that Harry Potter was very.. hard. Probably even tougher than himself. Nobody ever told Neville off because they knew he would one day have a very high standing social status, maybe even become a Minister. And they wouldn't want to have him remember them poorly. No, Draco must learn from Harry Potter just what it meant being _hard_. This was a once in a lifetime experience that he would _not_ let slip by.

But Hermione looked shocked at Harry from the other end of the table because of a different reason: He looked so incredibly evil, like a blood thirsty wild animal that was savaging a poor chicken. Neville was probably lucky Harry didn't rip his head off, and for crying out loud _why_ was Harry dressed that way? It's as if he's been living in the wild. Not even the streets would have that of an effect on somebody. She was on the verge of crying right then, this was really _not_ good at all. Harry was just like an animal, and he was in her class. It was probably just luck that he hadn't noticed her.

Because she knew very well how animals felt about her.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

I'm going to a friend for a week. So adieu.


	5. Disastrous

**The Beast Whisperer**

Harry x Hermione

Romance

**Authors Note:**

There are so many ..authors here who have the characters who are in their story introduce their next chapter. I will try to mimic this as it seems to be a trend.

So, bring it on Harry.

Harry: Why Th#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

**Disastrous**

Minerva McGonagall was walking downwards the long table in the Great Hall after she had confirmed all students where present. Today was the only morning that every single one of her students, no matter if they were old or new, would definitely meet up at the Great Hall for breakfast. It wasn't just a matter of having something to eat; no, they were here to get their time table for the year that was to come. And if they for some reason wasn't present – well then they would have a heck of a time trying to figure out which class they would be expected in next, until they either found a teacher or a classmate who shared the same classes.

Not only was this an unspoken, unofficial rule, but it also made a lot of sense.

"There you go, Hermione!" McGonagall said as she handed Hermione her time table. "Oh, Thank you." She accepted half unfocused, staring at the great doors of the Great Hall, hoping to be able to leave very soon. McGonagall smiled at the precocious child and continued on downwards until she would reach the end of the table, and round the corner, and finally begin her journey up the table again giving out a time table to the students on this side as well. It wouldn't be until some time later that she would realize that one of her students were missing this morning.

Hermione distracted herself from her stare-down with the doors to give a quick glance at her newly acquired schedule. First up after breakfast was transfiguration. It wasn't her favorite subject, but still, it wasn't her least favorite either; Professor McGonagall was after all a very nice teacher towards Hermione. Ever since that troll incident at least. Maybe, Hermione wasn't sure, Minerva actually thought very highly of her for some reason.

Hermione grabbed some bread and headed out of the Great Hall, now that she had her time table there wasn't really much use in lingering around here any more.

It wasn't as though she tried to escape, or for that matter hide, she only wanted to get her supplies ready for the day, or so she told herself. And what better time than the current?

She ran up the stairs skipping every other step - she had grown a lot since she first started this school of witchcraft and wizardry. She entered the portrait hole that lead into the Gryffindor common room, knowing there wouldn't be anyone here at this time today. However, it felt different somehow. The door behind her closed and she stopped dead in her tracks.

Oh,

It was almost as if the room itself was hotter, filled with agitation; almost as if the clock moved slower; as if time stood still; almost as if the air was thicker, as if it the room was actually crying. Not even a dementor would be able to cause this kind of atmosphere; not even if Death himself touched her would she feel this emotion of fear.

Standing in front of her.. Only one thought entered her mind:_ him_.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

"Forgive me, Headmaster, but have you seen Harry Potter enter or leave the Great Hall." Minerva asked, holding Harry's time table in her bony hands. the headmaster had just entered the Great Hall himself so he had a feeling he knew what she was hinting at.

"I am sure he is on his way, Minerva, do not worry. " Dumbledore said to her as he walked closer, he knew the conversation was about to turn taboo for the students. He just knew it.

"Dumbledore, I've been meaning to ask," Minerva continued a bit quieter, seeing the opportunity at having a silent conversation with the headmaster. "regarding _him_. Do you think it's wise to let him wander around without a watcher? You don't suppose he will actually _attack_ a student?"

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

He stood but a few feet away now, staring at her with those horrifying eyes, and his mocking frown; as if daring her to move just a little bit. She suddenly realized how vulnerable she was, standing there. She didn't have her wand at the ready and by the looks of it, he didn't need a wand to cause harm unto her. The feeling of anxiety was present more now than ever before as it wasn't merely a token of her social situation – her life depended on this.

She dared not move - not even blink - as he got closer. Very slowly. He moved so slow in fact, she didn't know if he moved at all. And for each step he took, the ground shook around her and a deafening boom echoed in her ears. A wicked smile appeared on his shaded face which motivated his white teeth to shine through the darkness that was his aura. She just knew it: she would die. This was the moment that Hermione Granger would die.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

"Headmaster, you clearly saw the tendency Harry has to resort to violence. We even had to go as far as to _chain_ him to the table, and even then; he acted like an animal. A wild animal trying to escape!"

"I can assure you, Minerva, that as long as I am Headmaster of this school, I will never let Harry Potter harm another student."

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

There were only three more steps now, and she would die. She could almost hear the longing in his eyes that shouted kill. His black, unruly hair seemed to grow slightly larger as she could have sworn she saw horns grow out of his forehead. And his eyes turned ever greener, almost as if they where the very bottom of his evil soul, almost as if they were Avada Kedavra themselves. His strong chain connecting with his neck rang loudly in the quietness. It was only him and her. And his fist stretched out towards her, opening. He would kill her now. Hermione could have sworn she heard him growl. Two more steps.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

"But how can you be so certain that he will not do anything behind your back. Clearly he is a danger to our students, to ourselves. I do not see the reason in bringing him here in the first place; he is highly unstable. You know that! And you couldn't have already forgotten about what he said-"

"_Under no means_, will he harm a _student_ of mine."

There was silence between the two. And the headmaster subconsciously rubbed his right arm.

"However, if you insist so; I will allow you to go and show him the way here, in case he was lost. You are after all his head-of-house."

Minerva nodded stiffly, not sure if she found the idea of escorting him alone any comforting.

"You must understand Minerva, that we must try to trust in Harry. Otherwise he could never see it in himself to trust us. You should have noticed, he has already taken his first step. The first step towards trust."

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

One more step.

Then death.

Hermione closed her eyes, not daring to look at her soon to become murderer, Harry Potter. She accepted her death; there wasn't exactly much for her to live for, and she waited. She waited for what she knew would come ever since she saw the boy. He was a beast, an animal - and animals hated her. There was no use in even thinking about survival in this kind of a situation – just acceptance. Acceptance that there was nothing more she could do – would ever do, except wait.

But it never came. She opened one eye, then another.

He was gone.

She hadn't even realized that she had cried, not even that she had fallen to her knees. They hurt, stone floor hurts.

It didn't even take two seconds for her to reach the stairs and enter her bedroom. She laid there in her bed, ripping closed the curtains framing her bed, and she pressed her pillow against her head and silently cried her heart out.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

"You, of course, remember what happened with Neville?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why, I do not think that was an act of.. trust, headmaster"

"It _means_ that Harry is able to trust another human being with a task, if he just wills himself. Though he may have lived a trying life, though me may have trust issues, though he may have a certain.. other issue – it's not like he's the first one attending Hogwarts in that state, if it's even true, which I doubt."

"Who are you speaking of that-"

"_He_ was not anywhere near as unstable as Harry is." Snape said then, interrupting McGonagall who looked like she had been punched in the face. "All I'm saying, headmaster, as a fellow classmate to _that_ _person_, I can say with certainty that Harry here is on a completely different level."

"After all, _he_ didn't look or for that matter _behaved_ like a-"

"Severus." Dumbledore said. "I believe he never truly told us whether it is true or not. Don't jump to conclusions too soon."

"Sorry," he said. And Professor McGonagall looked confused between the two men.

"Off you go then, Professor." Dumbledore said to McGonagall, and she left the Great Hall in a hurry. When she found the boy she would tell him a thing or two about etiquette, if he would listen that is. McGonagall shuddered as she ran up the stairs, two steps at a time. It was a rare feat earning of an applause at her age.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

So this was the Owlery. Not quite what Harry had expected, but it would do. Dumbledore had told him of the birds they used to communicate with, and that they had a room in the highest tower at Hogwarts that was dedicated to the Owls.

It was a rather quiet room in fact. Well, apart from the sounds of hundreds of birds. There wasn't many people that came here often, and that would be enough to classify this as a quiet room, in Harry's opinion.

Harry called on a bird, and it immediately flew to him. They were so tame, so trained, and so respectful of humans. They weren't even afraid of him. He knew how hard it could be to trust a fellow human being that he felt something stir inside him. These birds were fearless.

The owls seemed to take a liking in Harry, as he sat there smoking his_ heh, what's the word.. oh yea "muggle" _cigarettes. They flew about, around, and everywhere at once. They weren't scared by the sound of it; instead they almost seemed to be singing. He finished one cigarette, and immediately lit another. A smoke in the morning was very relaxing and helped his nerves. At the moment he was smoking because he was worried about what he would do when he no longer had any more cigarettes to smoke. It was not likely that they sold these sticks anywhere near here.

There was also another reason for him to be concerned about. He had ran into that weird girl, what's her name again? He couldn't remember. Well, he couldn't remember when she never told him, could he? That was one weird girl, she just _stood _there all terrified. It was one thing to fear him; but to be absolutely paralyzed! It was rather insulting in a way. But the thing that shook him was her eyes. Those eyes were very lonely. She was disastrous.

"Sorry, _Owls_," Harry said and dusted himself off as he stood. There really was no use to dwell on that matter for too long. "I'll come back another time". The owls hooted sadly, or at least what they hoped sounded like a bird being sad, and he started to walk.

He grabbed his stupid chain and tossed it over his shoulder. Stupid chain, why was he forced to wear it anyway? Stupid school, what was the reason for him being here (if not for the food?). Stupid headmaster, kidnapping him during the middle of day and dragging him here beyond his will – just so that he can act friendly with these weird people?! Stupid _hat!_ And he kicked the bird that was closest to him. It yelped in surprise and pain, and flew away hurt before more damage could be done. The owl sat on the highest beam nearest the roof as it glared angrily towards the boy who was about to exit the door. His chains dangling and ringing; giving the owl nightmares to come for many days.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

_He was considered a unique entity. A magical entity that would never die; nor live. He would not age, as he could not feel time. He was time. His name was _sorting hat_, abd his endless life was spent to sort minds. Maybe that was why his name was so original, he mused._

_But who is right to decide where these minds go? To divide good friends, to create enemies, maybe even turning friends into enemies; as had happened before. The hat was made to solve this problem, he would get the blame no matter. And nobody would care to ask how he felt about that._

_So came the day when the hat met a child who, just as himself, pondered the meaning of life._

_A cursed one he was. A most unlucky child, having almost been killed at such a young age. His destiny had yet to be revealed to others. Only time would show what he had become. But the boy was strong still, yes, very strong. His power was awesome yet was still not fully awakened. His mind was taunting, such passion to learn, so much hidden anger. The boy had never received love, nor happiness. His childhood was very frightening, oh yes. He was-_

What are you?

_-special. A simple thought, quiet, but strong. Strong willed. The hat was curious. What are you? The hat asked himself. He had asked himself that question oh so many times before in his past._

_..Your destiny. The hat sought fit to answer._

_If the boy was interested in knowing what the hat was he had a strange way to show it; not even bothering to waste time dwelling on this mystery answer he asked a new question._

What am I?

_The boy did not know who he was, how could the hat? It was hard to answer a question when he did not have an answer. The child was silent, his mind was silent. The hat was silent._

_Until through the tunnel that was his connection with the boy, he saw what he'd been hoping to find. You seek power, you seek love, you seek knowledge. Why? It is true that it was what most people fought for, however, a boy at such an age had no use to ponder about these things. Unless.. Are you not happy with who you are? Who you have become? A survivor. A fighter. A marked man. A boy who lived. _

_A wizard._

_A wizard? A boy who lived? They were insane. This is insane. Is he insane?_

_There is no use to go insane, I was simply stating the truth. You are a wizard, and I do believe you know that deep inside. Surely you realize you could not have survived this long were it not for your special ability -that of a wizard. It has become the time now to decide where you go. From there it will be entirely up to you to determine what to do with what was given. Though remember, though it may not look the right choice at the moment - I was made for this single purpose. This is my meaning of life. There never was a could in my world, I only deal with woulds. And for you to have not even considered the possibility of you being who you are, there's but one place to put you. It's clear, very clear, that the only house where you belong is.._

_He screamed at the hat after, through his mind, but the hat did no longer answer him – for he was somewhere else; in the hands of the old man yet again._

_And he became a Gryffindor._

_Whatever the hell that was._

..

"_Wow, Gryffindor." The old man said as he stole the magical hat that existed only to sort from on top of Harry's head. "I should have expected, after all; your parents were both in Gryffindor and it is not unusual for the offspring to follow in their parents footsteps."_

_Harry looked around and noticed two new teachers having entered the room now. A guy in an all black outfit and a greasy hair that almost stuck to his face in a disgusting manner, his nose was almost unnaturally big compared to his other facial features. And a woman who looked like she was sixty or so years older than him, dressed in an all green outfit and a pointy hat to boot. Her mouth was straight as a nail and her glasses hung on her nose which she could easily look past. It was most likely reading glasses._

"_Whatever." Harry said. He couldn't care less about what the lying piece of trash that was the old man had to say. He had kidnapped him for crying out loud. And now he told stories of how his parents were.. _wizards_, just as he was one. Were they kidnapped as well by this bastard? Wouldn't surprise Harry in the least if they were._

"_Now then, Do you have any questions Harry?"_

_The evil glare that was sent the headmasters way by the boy was more than enough to raise the unspoken question that the boy needless to say wanted answered. Why was he chained to his chair?_

_Dumbledore seemed to understand his quiet question, and raised an eyebrow at Harry. He said:_

"_Tell me Harry. Is it usual for you to hit people?"_

_Harry didn't answer at first, instead he just looked away annoyed. What was the old man hoping to accomplish anyway? _

_Professor Snape looked at Harry in anger; such a snobby kid. He may have his fathers appearance, and his mothers eyes; but he is too wild in nature to be reminiscent of either. Fearing that Harry wouldn't answer he thought about asking a question that had lingered at the tip of his tongue for a while now._

"_There are three kinds of people in this world," Harry began suddenly, his voice didn't exactly sound annoyed at the moment. "Constructive. Disastrous. Neutral." Rather his voice was lazily forming the words, almost as if his personality had changed and he no longer cared about anything at all._

_Dumbledore quickly sneaked an eye Severus' way and he too had a look of confusion on his feature that the headmaster bore as well. Harry didn't seem to notice the exchange at all though and he continued._

"_A Disastrous person may, or may not; though commonly, live a life of solitary. He may be thrown out of present time and firmly hold his grip to a life in a painful past. He may as well go as far as to live a life of evil. Though there are different aspects of evil; Vile, corrupt, vicious, to name but a few; there is always the one chance that one will succumb into depression. Suicide, ill health ..loneliness, boredom, shyness. A person living his life from the inside. A disastrous person can have many things, yet does not have anything at all. He may not have much to offer but he has much to take. A Constructive person on the other hand. Well, imagine the opposite. He has little to take but much to give. He lives his life on the outside, an extrovert. An optimist. Happiness comes naturally to him. I believe you, old man" Dumbledore flinched slightly at the new nickname he had got just hours ago. "is constructive."_

_Harry looked at Dumbledore in spite, as if he hated those kinds of people._

"_Though, either can be violently shifted in his belief of life due to a given ..overwhelming experience, and become his opposite self. I wouldn't go as far as to say that it is normal though. Then there are those who are never truly either that would simply be called neutrals, though rare, they do exist. They alternate between their relation to life. They live their life and takes things for granted. They bare with it. They live."_

"_And where would you classify yourself, Harry?" Dumbledore asked the boy. Said boy smiled with a glint in his wolf like eyes as he began to speak again._

"_I've been living with disastrous people most of my life, and I can with certainty say that I have learned a thing or two about what is right and wrong. If you don't like something; hit it. If you find something boring; kick it. If you hate something; ..kill it."_

"_I am disastrous."_

_Sounds like Voldemort, no, Tom Riddle was as well. Dumbledore thought with a sight. Maybe Harry was a lost cause after all, but as long as he showed Harry how much he cared.. Maybe if he could figure out what "overwhelming experience" Harry needed in order to change, things would go smoothly. More smoothly than how it went with Tom. Maybe what Harry needed was someone to trust in._

_Still. Chaining a person to a chair was hardly a sign of trust; however – in this time of age it was more important to have a potentially strong soldier on his side, rather than being dead. Or worse, a death eater. Minerva left the room after hearing the shock that was the boys personality; had she expected any different of him? Harry wasn't sure, and he didn't really care at all._

"_Which leads me to my next question Harry, why do you dress and look like this?"_

_Harry looked confused for a moment before he steeled himself. It didn't go unnoticed by the other two though, and it only encouraged Snape to finally ask his question that had been haunting him now for a while._

"_Are you a werewolf?"_

_Harry smiled again, maybe even more evilly than before. But he didn't actually answer. Instead he howled towards the moon (not a full moon mind you) that was above them in the roof. Because that magical roof of the Great Hall reflected the scenery of the night-sky outside._

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

**Authors note:**

I keep wondering why, no matter how many times I rewrite stuff, I am never happy with how it turns out.

Harry has an odd perspective on personalities doesn't he? Hahaha.

Anyway. Well I'm back home. I forgot I was writing a story, and I got an addiction to call of duty 4. Then I remembered that I was writing a story. Then I read it. Then I wrote a new chapter. Then I wrote this authors note. Then I posted it here. Bye.


	6. Trust

**The Beast Whisperer**

Harry x Hermione

Romance

**Authors Note:**

I don't understand some grammatical rules and would like to apologize now for every single grammatical error that you encounter or have encountered throughout this story. I am aware that I sometimes use the wrong tense, and that I may write some of my sentences in a weird way. However, I am unable to "see" them, however unlikely that may sound to you pros *wink*. I just know that they are there from previous experience. I could be wrong though, but I don't know for sure whether I am or not. English is after all my third best language so it's only natural that I should have some trouble with it. Hahaha. Maybe this is why some of you comment that the story is different, because of the way I write.

Any misspelled words however, I am very aware of. They are simply leftovers from my quick going-through before I post a chapter. Grr. It bothers me somewhat that I miss such obvious mistakes. It bothers me even more to even think about editing the chapters and re-update them. GRR! Anyway,

w#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

**Trust**

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall!"

It was transfiguration class, the very first class of the school year. Hermione had already placed her books neatly in the corner of her small desk, and was vividly scribbling on her ever present parchment of notes that was scrolled to her transfiguration section – year four. Even though their teacher had yet to properly begin the class, she had remembered something just now that she had read during her summer break. It might not have been an important detail to her classes, however she was picky in this way and would not let one bit of knowledge escape her grasp.

You see, Hermione was a bookworm. This didn't necessarily mean that she would constantly seek knowledge though. However it was not unusual at all to find her located in the library. It wasn't always that she was present to the outside world (the inside world being her mind) but she was physically in the school library very much of her time that she didn't have classes. It was because of this behavior that she learned more than was usual for a student at this school. Some might say she was a prodigy, but she disagreed: she was simply studying hard. Maybe harder than usual, but it did give results.

And so it happened that she was the smartest witch of her year due to this behavior.

Being the smartest witch meant knowing beforehand what was to be taught by the teacher. In turn this often lead to, as right now, nothing much of interest happening during the class at all. She wasn't one to complain though; it was rather relaxing not having to worry about _him_ being here. It seemed to her that she was the only one reacting this strongly to his character. Most of the students, from what she had heard, actually found Harry Potter an interesting character. Ok, so they thought of him as a very scary person, but interesting non-the-less.

The one who seemed to take the most positive liking towards Harry was Ronald Weasley, as was rather expected in Hermione's opinion. Maybe he felt sort of a need to befriend Harry as he had befriended almost the whole school. It was kind of his image to know everybody and everybody knew him.

Still, being on the mind of hundreds of students didn't exactly mean that the hundreds of students where on _his_ mind. To further validate this point, not likely intentionally though; Harry never showed up and nobody knew where he was. Hermione who had been the last person to see him, never actually saw him leave and so she didn't voice her concern over that matter when the professor asked her class where he was.

Though she couldn't help but struggle with the shocking thought that she actually felt a little bit sorrowful that he was nowhere to be found. She convinced herself that because Harry resembled an animal that much; her natural reaction would be to like him. Still, this didn't mean in any way that she would fancy him –which she didn't, not in the least- it was simply a small fracture of attraction towards the animal in him. She could even go as far as to say that she detested Harry in the strongest way ever imaginable, reinforced with iron walls to keep him at bay down there deep in the dark corners of her mind. Not even Draco ranked this high up on her unofficial "People I Hate" list.

So the transfiguration class ended at last without too much of a fuss and the students of Gryffindor went along to their next class which was Defense against the Dark Arts. They would share this class together with students from the Slytherin house and this meant that Hermione would sit as close to Ron as she possibly could. However if that was not a possibility, which it rarely was, she would settle with as far away from Draco as possible.

She knew that Ron would not take the harassment from Draco lightly and he would try to protect her to _some_ extent at least, because Ron was not very strong himself. In fact he wasn't even above average in any of his subjects. But he did have many friends to back him up, whereas Draco only had his ego mostly. However, Draco was way above the average student in the physical activities that related to magical use. He wasn't exactly strong on the theoretical part though, whereas Hermione was the opposite: mentally strong, physically weak.

It was such a pity though that Hermione was later than usual and couldn't find a very good seat at all. There were not only two free seats, but both of which were nowhere near Ron, nor were they particularly good to begin with being next to the sunny window.

She had no choice but to comply and randomly decided upon the seat that was below the other.

Having settled down, the class waited for their new professor to enter. It was odd that he wasn't even here when class had already started and all. Maybe he actually left yesterday night?

It wasn't until the fourth minute had passed that Harry showed up.

And he wasn't alone. Heck, if it weren't for Alastor Moody Hermione didn't believe Harry would even be here at all. He was practically dragged behind the other man. And he didn't look happy with that fact at all. It was clearly visible that harry had put up resistance towards their teacher, as said teacher had a brown-yellowish spot on his chin that wasn't there the other day.

As they both scrambled forcibly through the classroom door making a ruckus, Harry was sent flying to the back of the class where his chain immediately connected with what was to become his class desk for the next hour.

He dusted himself off from his contact with the floor and he looked for his options. There was simply no choice other than to sit on the wooden chair that was next to him, and he didn't say anything. Instead he just angrily glared at the teacher and silently breathed through his nose. It was as if he now didn't care either way whether he was here or not.

He leaned forwards and rested his head on his fists. He noticed that in the seat in front of him was that brown haired girl from this morning. He got the feeling he should ask her if she felt alright, but decided against it. He knew how fragile she seemed and it wouldn't do to scare her up even more than she probably already was. Was it even him who'd shaken her at all?

"Now just sit quietly right there Mr. Potter and don't try any funny business".

So much for living in a new kind of world, Harry thought to himself. Even though it was years ago, and he was many miles away from his old house; the same sentence, although a bit more polite, was used that he'd grown up with. He simply chose to ignore the teacher for now and just let him do his thing or whatever.

It all started to resemble his old school as well. People whispering about him when the teacher wasn't paying attention, people giving him feared looks, the teacher eyeing him every now and then. If it wasn't because he was suddenly remembered of his old life, he might have actually laughed. Especially when the teacher somehow always seemed to know when a student of the class was about to not pay attention.

He had a thing for keeping his students at bay, and focused, at all times. It was almost surreal the way he did it: His facial features never changing and his speech pattern remaining the same even under stressful situations. He was a hardened man, that's for sure. Not even the punch Harry had got in on him had made any significant damage to the man. He merely hardened his hold on Harry and dragged him more violently; as if just slightly annoyed. Still, it wouldn't surprise Harry if he actually didn't feel a thing. He looked like that kind of a man, who would sustain immense pain and still fight on no matter what happened. Harry had always looked up to those kinds of people. Though he would probably never admit it to anyone, Harry thought he might actually respect that teacher a little bit.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

So a week passed without any words being said between Hermione and Harry. They didn't even as much as bump into each other accidentally. Hermione being too scared to be anywhere near him, and Harry not being in class, or being too aloof to even take notice of her.

There was one person that was to blame for Hermione to fear Harry even more than she already did, and for Harry to remain in his own sick little world. It was probably the worst person ever to team up with him in Hermione's opinion. Actually it wasn't just her; everybody seemed to fear the team of three –now four- that silently ruled the halls of Hogwarts through an underground connection. For the situation in which the four had suddenly adapted to hold could only be described as a group of mafia's.

They didn't actually do anything of significance that was fearful, amusing or embarrassing in any sense to the other students; this was the job of Fred and George, Ron's elder brothers, as well as Peeves the poltergeist. However, by merely being present - every single one of the students was to be on their toes trying their best not to disturb or accidentally interrupt the four in any way for fear of getting their asses kicked, quite literally speaking. Even teachers bore worried looks as they passed the group by. They created a new kind of fear and worry in everybody who attended the school. Even Dumbledore the headmaster was a little worried with whom Harry had eventually ended up befriending.

Sure it was great that Harry had found somebody to confide in, but it would have been so much more conveniently assuring to everyone had it been Ron instead, he considered.

It wasn't exactly planned out by Ron, but he was probably the reason behind why this had happened to begin with, had he not attempted several times to get to know the new boy better.

Yet to Ron's shock Harry didn't even as much as look at him throughout all of their encounters. It was as if Ron was nothing more than a worthless bug that wasn't beneficial the time being paid attention to.

This did in no way mean that Ron would give up on his hunt to befriend the boy in any case; he even went as far as to set up a schedule to try and understand his behavior. That didn't particularly help much though, as Harry seemed to be a rather normal person when it came to being a student. Except that he didn't show up on time, or at all, during class. Well, when he had Defense against the Dark Arts he seemed to be eager to get to it (god knows what had happened between the D.A.D.A teacher and Harry) and he ate regularly (alone), not missing a single feast.

A habit Harry had though; was to enter the Owlery in the mornings and afternoons to have a smoke. It was a weird habit for a student, but he at least had the decency to not smoke in the halls or anywhere near people.

Other than these traits, there really were no specific similarities between his actions throughout every day (that he was shadowed) to which Harry held himself to. He appeared to just do whatever he pleased whenever he pleased. He was a person with random habits.

He even decided to speak sometimes, although it was rarely. And when he did speak, what came out of his mouth was hardly ever a complete sentence. He frequently resorted to the word "no". And as one would come to expect; Ron kept getting denied every time he tried to make communication.

Ron eventually swore upon his pride that he would make friends with this interesting new kid-on-the-block no matter how long it took. He was simply _too _interesting to be left alone. Harry always made Ron laugh (however unintentional it might be), due to his animalistic traits. Those being to look rather like an animal and behave like a wild hungry animal at meal times. Let's not forget his social attitude that also resembled an animal; him either escaping any form of contact, or when he felt like it, him setting up the random brawl with pretty much anyone. Age and gender made no difference to him perhaps.

Harry had even resorted to wearing the traditional Hogwarts robes, but by some miracle those robes soon didn't look any better than what he had been wearing when he first arrived. It was almost, in a comical way, as if he didn't know how to handle cloths properly. He even once had a stick stuck in his sleeve that he tossed behind his back as if it was a normal occurrence to him, whilst eating dinner, earning him a good hard laugh from Ron himself – finding that particular situation rather amusing. The look on Harry's face when he had found that it was the stick that had been causing him unpleasantness was priceless for the split second that he bore it. Whatever business he had had in the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the day, during class, Ron had no idea. But it was rather humorous that he would even think about doing such a thing.

And because of the constant denials; which Ron never experienced other than with Harry; he just had to learn more about the boy. If Hermione didn't know better she would say that Ron was actually very happy to finally find somebody who didn't seem to _care_ about him.

But he did finally give him some space, realizing that he had perhaps gone a bit too far when he hexed Harrys chain- connecting it to the corridor wall; simply to have a good long chat, where Harry would be forced to finally listen to what Ron had to say.

The chat didn't even last five seconds, and Ron left that scene with a bloody nose that was screaming in pain. Tears in his eyes, he actually managed to find the whole situation amusing anyway. Really; Harry was most certainly the single most interesting person at Hogwarts. Never mind the students from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic or the students from the Durmstrang Institute. w

Draco Malfoy, the self proclaimed "hardest man of Hogwartsl", approached the weakened Harry Potter. Weakened because he had nowhere to run and being chained to the wall he had shorter reach. Draco just had to keep his distance.

"I saw what you did to that weasel." Draco had said with his smirk on place; the smirk that never reflected into his eyes. It was simply an emotionless smirk. Harry immediately wanted to hit him.

"I came to offer an alliance, though we are in different houses; it is clear to me that you are indeed in the wrong house. You're independent, cunning, and a loner. This is what a true Slytherin is. How you managed to trick the hat is enough evidence alone that you are indeed a Slytherin at heart."

Harry simply tried to stare down the blond boy, and he felt he would have succeeded were it not for one of Draco's friends showing up, distracting Draco from the eye contact. It wasn't difficult at all to tell that Draco actually was really glad that one of his goons had showed up. It was probably a first for him, because he looked rather confused at the idea.

Although Harry found Draco slightly annoying, he was his best bet at the moment to get loose from the wall. An alliance didn't sound too bad either; Harry knew instinctively that Draco was a completely different person than Ron. Draco was more alike to Harry than Ron was. The idea of forming an alliance with the boy both had its pro's and con's; but what the heck. If it meant getting free from the wall then why not. He had the feeling that Draco would leave him here, should he choose to say no.

"Get me loose." Harry said, and his voice woke both Draco and Crabbe from their private conversation – Draco complaining about not sneaking up on him like that – Both looked at Harry in slight fear.

"I-I take that as a yes, then?" Draco finally managed to speak out, after re-establishing his lost confident composure.

Harry seemed to think about this once more, but whether he found something useful or not in his mind was difficult to tell. He nodded once then.

So it was simply due to Ron's rather foolish and childish behavior that the students at Hogwarts got something to fear. The group of four would band together for some time to come.

The two might be companions in a way, but Harry never actually saw Draco as a friend. At best Draco was simply a source of information. He had shown Harry around the school, describing the past of Hogwarts (as best as he knew it, he never really knew much about history and all that was associated with theory), and the events that had taken place the previous three years when Draco himself had attended the school.

The people whom Draco sought fit to not be worthy were also mentioned, whereas mostly the whole school were included in his list. Most of which Harry had no idea who was or how they looked like. Amongst them, on top of his list was Hermione Granger. A know-it-all-big-toothed-snuck-up-little-mud-blood, as he had described her. At first Harry didn't know who Hermione was, or for that matter – Draco's description didn't exactly fit. So he had to ask. And once figuring out that Draco was indeed talking about the lonely character that was perhaps a little sad, who he had had a run-in with last week, Harry felt the need to have said that Draco was wrong.

But he didn't really know if he himself was right in his analyzation of the girl either - he had only met her once. Still her eyes back then reflected what he had seen in his own reflection in the mirror all those years ago. He eventually said nothing to correct Draco though; there was no use in risking losing a recently created bond, whichever strength it might hold, between two students. After all, Draco seemed like a reliable person, a person who would not foolishly tell lies. Draco was too smart for that.

Draco talked about Neville too; whom Harry had learned was the slightly chubby kid he had commanded to give him food on his first day here. Draco had mentioned how impressed he was that Harry had even done that. Then again, regarding how Harry was new to this world he could understand that he didn't exactly know who he had been messing with.

It had come as a shock to Draco when Harry had said he didn't really care at all about Neville's status in the wizardry world. He was simply the person that was seated closest to him that given time at the table, and he _had_ tried to act civically, it wasn't exactly a command from Harry's part; merely a request. The shock was replaced then by an evil smirk that Draco wore for the rest of the day.

He had really hit the jackpot with this one. Just wait until his father would hear about this, that _he, his own son,_ had befriended the enemy of the dark lord. Who wasn't, as far as Draco's insight went, an enemy at all - rather he was a potential ally.

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

That Monday during the second class of the third week, the fourth years of Gryffindor and Slytherin had Defense against the Dark Arts again. It was to become a rather special class, because however unlikely it seemed at first, and however little they both realized it; during the passage of that hour; the relationship between our two heroes would change. Without them even knowing.

4#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

"Settle down."

It sounded like an order given out to his soldiers, though of course if it was then he wouldn't use those particular words to get their attention. No matter, it had the desired effect. Still, Alastor merely had to open the classroom door to suppress the laxity of the students. (AN: Lol, Laxity was a word? I wonder what it means?! Does it even mean enough to make sense in its assigned sentence? Ohlol, IDK. But it almost reminds me of the word relax. Like, the students stopped being relaxed, or in other words their freedom was taken away. But I have no idea, haha, ignore this AN. and let's continue. If my mind is working correctly I'm sure I am about to write something interesting soon.).

The general idea of attending school was bizarre to Harry. He had always been a bother to everyone it seemed, and his grades that he got back then reflected his poor behavior. It wasn't exactly his fault that they never got to learn anything of significant interest in the muggle world. Maybe this was why he felt shocked when he realized that his respect towards the D.A.D.A teacher had turned his attention to the subject that said teacher lectured, and he found the topic immensely interesting.

He couldn't exactly pin-point what exactly it was that he took an interest in. Was it the fact that there actually were dark lords and what not in this world; that there actually existed _dark_ magic? That the whole wizardry world that was good saw the dark magic and its uses as nothing but a big barrel filled with obnoxiously repulsive revoltingness?

Harry wasn't sure if he would truly ever use a dark spell himself though. Sure it had its uses, but he could already do stuff that the spells would do; only he didn't need a stupid stick to do them lest he wanted to forget his already acquired talents.

Or did he find the class interesting simply due to the fact that he was _learning _something?

At any rate, he sat willingly in this class and listened to what his teacher had to say today.

"Can anyone tell me the name of an unforgivable curse?"

An unforgivable curse, he said?

"Yes, you, Speak up." He had pointed towards one of the persons that had held her hand up in the air.

"One of the unforgivable curses is the Imperio curse." She said.

"Right you are. Five points to Slytherin."

He walked over towards the back of his desk where he got hold of a box that he placed and opened on his table.

"Does anyone care to tell me what the Imperio curse does?" He asked, "Feel free to speak freely."

He removed from the box a large spider. Looked like a tarantula.

"It takes over the mind of the receiver, letting the caster have total control over the receivers mind." Somebody spoke up. Alastor didn't look up at the person, he had probably used his magical eye or something, Harry figured, to figure out which house he belonged to –because, "Correct. Five points to Slytherin again." He had said.

"_Imperio_"

There were a few people who gasped as he said the forbidden word, and cast the forbidden spell on the spider. Alastor played around a little, letting the small creature do various acrobatics that shouldn't be possible at all due to its anatomy. Some people laughed, and Harry had to agree that it was quite interesting indeed.

"Yes, you all laugh now," Alastor said suddenly, "What do you want him to do next?

"Jump from the window?" And the spider was located at the windowsill; people stopped laughing, "Drown himself?" And the spider was located hovering above a goblet of water that the teacher had placed on his table even before the class had started.

The children of his class finally realized the danger of this spell. It was almost too evil to exist. So this was the reason why it was forbidden to use.

"Another!" Alastor shouted, but nobody spoke. "Name another," he tried again.

Reluctantly a brave soul from Gryffindor spoke this time, "Cruciatus". It was Neville.

"Yes, you would know about that one, would't you Mr. Longbottom? Five points granted to the Gryffs."

Neville didn't answer; instead steeled himself for what he knew was to come.

"_Cruciatus_"

The spider immediately began to trash about to its best ability. It was clearly in severe pain, even though Harry didn't know a spider could feel pain at all. The sounds that came from the little animal could only be described as horrific. Nobody suspected that the clicking sounds of its mouth could ever be this loud, and it was as if its joints were breaking as the legs moved about so fast they too made sound. It was a grotesque display.

Harry, by chance, ended up noticing Hermione who was in the seat in front of him was shaking. She was holding her hands over her ears, trying to cover them up from the disgusting sound that was the spider's torture. She no doubt had her eyes closed as well trying to block out any seeable detail of the appalling display.

"Stop it."

Harry said then. It was almost as if he was shouting because the people in the class turned towards him abruptly, even their teacher.

"I'm sorry? What was that?"

"I said stop it. Can't you see it's hurting her?" Harry said and pointed towards the girl in front of him. He had no idea why he did it, or how he came to react this way. He simply realized that he didn't like the torture of an animal any less than Hermione did. But why he had used her as an excuse was beyond him. She was after all nothing but a stupid know-it-all or something, right?

"Then are you able to tell me the final and most unforgivable of them all, Harry?"

"Only if you stop this barbaric revoltingness" He said, still pointing at Hermione. She had turned his way after realizing that something was up; and she realized Harry did this for her own benefit, due to some reason. She felt something that she never thought she would feel, it was not fear any more. It was what she believed to be a feeling of trust.

She was shocked speechless, as were everybody else present mind you, because this was after all Harry Potter, the wild beast who didn't care for anyone!

#facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #facepalm# #slaptotheface#

**Authors Note:**

This chapter, as well as the previous chapter, _and_ the next chapter was originally planned to be just one chapter. Isn't it odd how I keep adding more and more to the story that was never originally intended? A one-shot in my opinion connotes to around fifteen thousand words, though twenty thousand is acceptable as well. That this story was at first supposed to be a one-shot is impossible to believe given these criteria's because I am nearly halfway there now at twenty thousand words or so! This ultimately adds up to, that indirectly in a bizarre way, this story is now complete.

Apologies for the hurried ending here, it is getting rather late at the moment (3:30am) and I'd rather get some sleep.

Oh yea, this was written in MSWord2007 (I've got Windows 7 now, along with a few applications (yay for friends)) so I'm not sure how the formatting will turn out on this site.

Anyway, one anon to another; see you next chapter.


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